Galion Looks For Work
by Sixty-four K
Summary: Years after the events of the author Erestor's tale "Looking For Work", Galion seeks to earn the same fame that Erestor has won in recent years. Erestor attempts to explain the different fan fiction genres to a strangely resistant Galion, and Glorfindel has a trick up his sleeve. In honour of Erestor the writer's twelfth fan fiction birthday.


_This isn't, unfortunately, my very best work(it's not terrible, though! Right...?). HOWEVER! I was highly pressed for time, as I realized two days ago that Erestor the writer's fan fiction birthday was September 3_ _rd_ _, and was forced to write like mad. This isn't what I had originally wanted to publish on that day, but my original work still needs some revision(and isn't actually done yet...)._

 _As many of my friends know, I love Galion, Thranduil's butler, and I owe part of this fondness for a minor character to Erestor's story_ _Looking For Work_ _, where Thranduil states that Galion is one of the most underused characters ever. Determined to change this unfortunate fact, I began to write about him, and came to be very fond of him in the process. This story takes place some time after_ _Looking for Work_ _. The ending is also inspired by Erestor's_ _Balrog Conspiracy Trilogy_ _. Thank you, Erestor, for your never-ending inspiration! You are one of the best fan fiction authors ever, and I hope that you come back someday and review this story. Please? I would appreciate reviews from anyone, however- you all know how much I love them._

 _Happy fan fiction birthday, Erestor! You are twelve today!_

* * *

Erestor peered over the edge of the paper he held, studying the figure that sat before him. Pale, lanky, with slightly shaggy tan-coloured hair, the elf that sat in the seat before him was distracted and tense, bony fingers twirling a loose strand of hair. His clothes, though slightly faded, were immaculate, and his manner, though nervous, was cultivated.

Erestor turned his attention back towards the paper, and was quite irked to find that he was unable to read the scrawling handwriting that spread across its surface. "What, may I ask, is this?" he asked tartly.

The elf before him squirmed nervously in his seat. "Erm... i-i-it's my resume."

"Really?" Erestor took a closer look, but was still unable to decipher the mysterious language before him. "It looks quite impressive. If only I were able to read it."

The elf hung his head. "I'm sorry. I wrote it while I was scrubbing out the stove, and I wasn't looking at the paper while I wrote on it." Then, his eyes brightened. "I have it memorized, though. Would you like me to recite it for you?"

Erestor shook his head. "Not yet. Firstly, I'd like to know who you are."

"Ah, yes," exclaimed the elf, blushing slightly. "I'm dreadfully sorry. I'm Galion, butler to his Royal Majesty, the Elvenking of all Eryn Lasgalen. Now. Let me list my qualities."

Erestor then enjoyed an hour-long nap, for that was how long it took Galion to finish listing his many admirable and versatile traits. Finally, Galion finished, staring expectantly at Erestor. This was the counsellor's cue to wake up, which he did.

"So?" asked Galion. "Can you help me?"

Erestor blinked. "Help you..."  
"Get a job." Galion stared earnestly at Lord Elrond's chief adviser. "Years ago, you were obscure- barely known about. Only a very few fangirls cared about you at all. Yet, in recent years, you've landed more and more important jobs, and now enjoy a well-loved, if not famous, status. And..." he broke off. "I want you to help me do the same. Not only am I obscure, I have a reputation to earn back. I need you to get me a good, angsty job. One that will make the fangirls feel sorry for me, and want to draw tragic fan art of, and write fan fictions about. It will be glorious- GLORIOUS." Galion fell off of his chair, to his knees, before the stunned adviser. "Help me, Erestor. You're my only hope."

Erestor blinked. He did not claim to be an agent, on the lookout for job opportunities, but Galion did have a point. Erestor had indeed had remarkable luck in recent years; friendship fluff, angsty tragedy, and "aww, poor Erestor," H/C had all come his way, adding up very nicely to make him a well-rounded character with a decent-sized army of fangirls. Poor Galion, however, had no such luck. If anything, he had been abused by the fan community, portrayed as a foolish drunkard with no intelligence and no love, only animosity, towards his employers.

"Very well," he sighed, justice apparently winning out against ease. "What sort of job would you like?"

"Well..." Galion trailed off. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful towards my lord, but I don't much enjoy that winery job he got me. I mean, it's a job, but I'd like something a little less monotonous."

"Well, let's get you something fun then," said Erestor, digging through his desk drawer. "This one was for Glorfindel, but I suppose that he has enough going for him already without this job. _Glorfindel goes to Lothlorien on business for Lord Elrond. While there, he meets Galadriel's other daughter. She helps him confront his past, while teaching him how to love._ Doesn't that sound fun? We could change the particulars to make it more Mirkwood oriented, of course."

Galion frowned, cracking his knuckles unconsciously. "Oh, I'm not worthy of the love of the Lady of Light's daughter, other daughter or not. I'm just the butler."

"Well, then." Erestor rummaged through the desk once again. "How about this one? This one is for Elrohir, but we could change it for you. _Elrohir is tired of always studying while his brother gets to go out and fight. One day, while on a hunting expedition, Elladan is kidnapped by orcs. Can Elrohir prove his prowess as a warrior and save his twin?"_

Erestor nodded decisively. "This is perfect. We can change Elrohir to you, Elladan to Thranduil, and orcs to spiders. It will be some lovely friendship fluff, interspersed with lovely little bits of action and adventure."

Galion shook his head, horror written on his face. "We _have_ orcs in Mirkwood, you know. Spiders are prevalent, of course, but not rampant. And I wouldn't want that to happen to Thranduil, just so I could rescue him! That's sadistic!"

Erestor facepalmed. "He wouldn't have to get hurt. We could hurt you instead, so everyone would feel bad for you. If you both got hurt, that would be even better. Then, you two could hide somewhere, nursing your injuries, and talk out whatever problems you have. It's a wonderful plot device."

"No," said Galion stubbornly. "I'm not going to hurt my lord for the sake of a story. A new suggestion, please."

Erestor sighed, reaching into the desk one last time. "Why not try the tried and true hurt/comfort?" he suggested wearily. "It's unpleasant at the time, but I assure you, it does cause the nicest things to happen. Everyone feels sorry for you, and they all do your work for you, and give you presents. I highly suggest this course of action, if you won't do anything else."

Galion looked thoughtful. "That does sound nice, actually. How badly do I have to hurt myself?"

"Fairly badly," said Erestor. "I think you have to at least break something. It would probably be best if you fell off something and broke your back. Then, since you're a butler, and do physical work, it would all be very tragic, since you couldn't do your job, and would add in an element of angst as well."

Galion looked sick, his face turning slightly grey. "I'm not a masochist. I don't want to do anything like that, even if it would get Thranduil to be nice to me."

Erestor thumped the table with a fist. "You have to do something. I thought that you wanted a job! Well, then you'd better pick one, hadn't you?"

Galion now not only looked sick; he was on the verge of tears as well. "I was under the impression that you were one of the finest advisers in Middle Earth! I thought that you would be able to advise me at least one good suggestion. I can't just jump into these sorts of things. I have a reputation to salvage! You have proven to be very nearly useless!"

Erestor's mouth dropped open, much to his chagrin. He closed it, and prepared to give Galion a royal telling-off. Unfortunately, he was prevented from doing so by the sudden appearance of Legolas. "Galion!" exclaimed the prince of Mirkwood. "Ada's been kidnapped by spiders! The last thing that he told me was that you were to rule the kingdom while he was indisposed!"

Galion's mouth dropped open(but, unlike Erestor, he was not chagrined, but closed it nonetheless). "Really!" he gasped. "My word! I'll need to get started on the social reform at once! No more slavery for the poor woodlanders!" Then, he made a noble face. "Then, of course, I'll go and save my lord as soon as that's done."

Galion got up from the chair with a sprightly hop. He turned to Erestor, beaming. "Thank you so much for your help!" he said, shaking the stunned adviser's hand.

"What did I do to help?" asked Erestor, slightly dumbfounded.

"Why, you allowed Thranduil to be captured, of course," said Galion with a friendly smile. "Had I been in Mirkwood at this time, rather than Rivendell, those infernal spiders would never have gotten near his majesty. I never allow them in the palace, I assure you. Now, I bid you farewell." With that, the butler, also known as the current regent of Mirkwood, turned on his heel and strode out of the room with a flair.

Erestor blinked, then shrugged, sitting down behind his desk once again. He pulled a notebook out from his desk, opened it to a page marked with that day's date, and wrote the following: _Today, another customer satisfied. Was paid 2 mithril bricks and a white-gem necklace. Another job well done._

"What're you writing, Erestor?"

Erestor stared upwards to see his best frenemy, Glorfindel, peering down into his private notebook. The counsellor slammed the book shut with a bang. "It's private."

Glorfindel shook his head, a devious glint in his eye. "I think that you'd better tell me, Erestor."

Slightly unnerved, Erestor refused to give in. "Why, may I ask, do you believe that I should tell you, of all people?"

Glorfindel smiled. "Lord Elrond will be most displeased to find out about this little 'side-business', as you so quaintly put it."

Erestor gasped. "You wouldn't dare."

Glorfindel grinned. "I would. There is nothing that I would not dare to do." He closed his eyes, smiling, and nodded. "I know everything, Erestor. Your Balrog conspiracy theory, your quiet pushes for social reform in Rivendell- this illegal organization that you've formed to raise funds for your Cynics' Society. I'm a very dangerous person." All this was said in a remarkably cheerful voice. Then, he chuckled.

"Be afraid, Erestor. Be very afraid."

 _The end?_


End file.
